Mr Darcy
by B.Apple.22
Summary: Bella Swan had always believed that she had stepped into a Jane Austen novel the first time she walked up the stone pathway to the Cullen's estate. Their handsome but brooding son would be her Mr. Darcy.


**Disclaimer: Ain't nobody got time to own anything.**

Her bare feet softly dug into the cream plush carpet of the hallway, pressing prints into the flooring just outside of Mr. Cullen's study. The cherry wood door was slightly ajar, the narrow opening casting a golden hue upon the hall in a dash amount. From her stance, she heard the rustling of pages and the crackling of a fire.

Those soft and irrelevant sounds that meant nothing to the world meant everything to her. Cautiously, she stepped forward.

The hall became darker with her small body acting as a barrier between the escaping light. Her eyes peeked into the crevice of the door as her hand blindly reached for the polished silver knob. The smooth metal seared into her skin, causing an electric jolt to shoot through her veins. And yet, she could not find the sense of mind to let it go, to stop her from softly pushing the door open further to reveal the dimly lit room.

She had been here before. The tall, dark wooded bookshelves that held encyclopedias, medical journals and first edition novels she had only dreamed of reading. A heavy desk sat by the tall, multi-paned windows that looked out upon the estate's luscious garden that Mrs. Cope had spent years perfecting. The thick blue curtains hung limp to the sides, framing the glass. The large stone fireplace that rose up the entire height of one wall to the far left was nursing a rich fire.

Across from the light source was his favorite blue velvet armchair in which he was situated familiarly in. His wire-frame glasses had slid down his angular nose. The curve of his neck as he bent his face to the novel resting in his lap exhibited that he has been in the position for a time. If it wasn't for his long, elegant fingers pinching the soft pages to lightly layer them over the previous, she would assume he was nothing but a beautiful statue.

Shifting forward, her arm jerked the door softly closed. The sound of the knob locking in place radiated through the room like a gunshot. She winced and reluctantly released her hand from the knob.

He didn't move. Instead, he almost seemed to become more of a statuesque object. His eyes poured over the page, trying to retain every phrase, every word, every letter.

Her heart pounded so intensely she was sure he could hear it, even with the distance between them.

After what seemed like hours, he sighed and broke his stance. Shutting the book, he tossed it onto the matching end table. It slid slightly but stopped just before the edge. Swiftly, he removed his glass and rubbed the tiredness from his eyes.

"I'll never understand how you find enjoyment in her literature," he murmured. "I can't find it in myself to understand it."

"It takes the right mindset," she reassured, stepping forward awkwardly.

"I suppose," he sighed and finally removed his hand so that his charming eyes could land on her.

Slowly, his blue flecked eyes swam up her body, starting from her lilac toes to her flushed face. The way he looked at her, with such intensity and memories of their past, caused her to look down in embarrassment, every inch of her alabaster skin flushing as a rush of passion fell over her.

"I hate when you do that," he remarked.

She looked up in understanding but still bit her lip and uttered, "Do what?"

He twisted his face to stare at the dwindling fire. His profile illuminated in the soft light and she took another step forward.

"Hide," was all he said.

She nodded. It was her accustomed response whenever he made the corresponding statement.

"Neither should you."

He chuckled and turned his eyes back to her. "I'm far too good at it to quit now."

She nodded again, taking another step forward. She stood close enough that her revealing robe was on full display in front of him.

His eyes widened, his mouth dropping open slightly. He breathed deeply, memorizing the soft curves of her body barely hidden by the shear black material. Her chest rose and fell, another blush heating her skin at his predatory gaze. But this time, she did not look away. Instead, she met his stare with an equal amount of hunger.

Something about the way he was staring at her, like she was the most exquisite woman he'd ever had the pleasure to see, gave her a confidence. She felt powerful, controlling and beautiful.

His eyes finally met hers again after he finished gazing. With another breath, he rose from his chair and took the three short steps to her. Asking her permission with simply a glance to her waist, she nodded slowly. His hands came up to meet the soft curves of her torso. So familiar yet still so mesmerizing, his fingers curled instinctively into her skin, gripping her as if she might disappear.

Everywhere he touched her lit on fire. It awakened the same emotions it had ten years ago, the first time he touched her, and three years ago, the last time he held her.

"B," he whispered hoarsely.

"Please," she begged, searching his eyes. "I can't…not be with you. Just…one more time, just tonight, please."

He knew what had gotten them to this moment. It was years of loving, years of hating. Times spent laughing, and crying, and screaming. Endless nights turning into new mornings phasing into lazy afternoons spent tangled in sheets and each other. And every time they would face another problem when the clouds came back in, covering their brief sun filled dream, causing it to wear off as reality set in. And then another storm would follow.

But when they were together, it was passionate and surreal. Nothing compared to the feeling of them conjoining in a naked tangle of their bodies.

So he gave in, sighing, "Once more, love, but it must be the last."

Smiling in triumph, even with his cynical warning, she slipped the robe off her shoulders, letting it glide down her body to create a pool around her feet. Her slender arms lifted, wrapping tightly around his neck. Using her position as leverage, she put her lips to his ear.

"Of course, Mr. Darcy."

**Hi!**

**So I hope you like this little intro to what will hopefully be a multi-chapter fanfic. I really like this plot monster that has currently taken residence in my head. However, there is **_**so**_** much going on in life right now that updates for the story will come every week to two weeks. I do not have schedule yet but probably every other Saturday and Sunday, maybe sooner, maybe later. I will always give notice though!**

**So, read and leave me love.**

**Reviews=Inspiration 3**

**~B.**


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